


Secrets

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Series: patchwork quilt [9]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Aromantic Cato, Aromantic Character(s), Gen, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, Spies & Secret Agents, also you dont need to have read the other parts to know whats going on!!, im putting it under graphic violence bc cato is literally in the hospital bc of wounds soooo, just read the author's note in the beginning, what cato REALLY does for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: Hercules was peering at his face nervously, lips pressed together. “Shakespeare, answer me, damn it,” he hissed, one hand poised to push the emergency button. “Can you hear me?”“’m okay,” he rasped, reaching up to weakly wrap his hand around Hercules’ wrist. “Just thinkin’ about our las’ mission together…”He frowned, gently petting Cato’s frizzy hair. “I shouldn’t have left you, I shouldn’t have risked it, I’m so sorry….”Cato shook his head, grimacing at his head. “No,” he said firmly, leaning into his hand. “I’m glad you did that, otherwise, Skittles would’ve died. I didn’t die.”“You almost did, in the hospital, in the ambulance, in the seat they left you in.” Hercules looked like he was going to be sick. “You almost died in surgery a few days ago. Please stop almost dying, i-I can’t lose you, you’re my best friend.”Cato pressed his cheek into Hercules’ hand, grimacing as he shifted. “And you’re mine,” he replied quietly. “It’s part of my job, Disney, you know that. Risking my life to save people. That’s what it’s all about.”* * * * *Or, Cato is injured, and finally lives up to his New Year's Resolution.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wow, i actually updated twice in like a week?????????? is the apocalypse coming?????????????
> 
> ive been working on this one for like,,,,,, five months. so. yeah.  
> (and it was good for five months - pap)
> 
> idk if yall realized it, but, lmao, cato aint really a costume designer.
> 
> anyways, if you havent read the rest of the series, all you really need to know is hercules is dating laf, who was previously in an abusive relationship with georges' mom, and that hercules is in a queer platonic relationship with cato.

Cato groaned softly, opening his eyes to see the bright white ceiling with a piercing pain in his gut. Frowning, he turned his head, blinking harder as he realized he wasn’t in a room he recognized. When his eyes rested on Hercules, dozing at his bedside, he relaxed, knowing Hercules would never let him stay in a dangerous area. Calmer now, he looked around and realized he was in a hospital, which explained the sterile smell. He struggled to look at his stomach, and saw it wrapped in gauze. That explained why he was in the hospital, and the last thing he remembered was that he was on a mission, so that meant there was surveillance on each possible entry into the hospital, and the room itself.

Which meant he was safe, and so was his queer platonic partner.

“Disney,” he said softly, laying back on the pillows. His neck strained from holding it up to look around.

Hercules stirred, slow but aware as he blinked awake. His reaction time was slower than it was when they worked together, but that was about thirteen years ago.

Almost exactly, in fact. He remembered the last mission they did together as an agent duo.

 

* * * * *

 

_“Shakespeare, we have to pick up your cousin, she left the oven on at home.” Hercules said urgently, tugging on Cato’s arm._

_Cato immediately translated the code in his mind. Cato, we need to leave, we’re in immediate danger._

_Nodding sharply, he grabbed his bag and started jogging towards their car. “We should hurry, is there anything flammable next to the stove, did she say?” What can we do to avoid getting caught?_

_“She didn’t, I didn’t ask.” His partner replied, ducking around crowds of people. Cato’s blood ran cold._

_I don’t know; they are threatening to hurt our family._

_Cato cursed under his breath, going faster now that he knew Lafayette and four-year-old Georges were in danger. Hercules was practically in love with Lafayette, and Cato was like a brother to Hercules and Lafayette, and an uncle to little Georges._

_The three of them were all Cato had after his parents died in a car crash, and his little sister was tortured and killed when he had first joined the CIA. He didn’t want to think about them getting hurt or worst too. He’d never be able to live with himself if they got hurt._

_Clearing his mind, he dashed towards the black car at the end of the street, only making it halfway before a hand on his arm yanked him into a little pathway not quite big enough to call an alleyway between two buildings._

_“I got the li’le one, boss,” a voice hissed from above him. Probably the guy who had his arm wrapped around Cato’s throat, and a knife digging into the back of his ribs._

 _The accent was clearly Brooklyn, the voice low and rough, probably a smoker if he took the acrid smoky smell from his jacket into account too. He was a little taller than Cato, so about average height, and his arms were thin but muscled._

_In front of him, Hercules was frozen, lip between his teeth. It was subtle, and very likely that Cato’s captors wouldn’t notice, but it was clear as day to Cato. He had been taught to know every single part of his partner so he could never be caught off guard. Hercules’ gaze flickered down to where Cato knew the knife was digging into his ribs. It just barely broke the skin, but Cato knew that a little jolt could possibly puncture a lung._

_“Now, yur gonna lemme go wit’out a fight or yur pahtneh ‘ere’s gonna get it. And you oughta call yur li’le friend, the pre’y black ‘aired one, or she gonna get a bomb blown up in’er face.” The man cackled, digging the knife in a little farther. “What wus her name? Mary, wus it?”_

_“Marie.” Hercules murmured, and Cato blinked. The man must mean Lafayette then. That wasn’t good._

_“Sure, sure, but she gonna get a pa’age addressed tah her any minu’e now, an’ lemme tell yous, once she opens that thing, ‘er face and ‘er leg are gonna be on opposite sides of the block, you got me?”_

_Hercules nodded slowly, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright, I got you, just give me my partner back, and we can let you go, okay?”_

_The man barked out a short laugh, shaking his head. “No, I don’ think you un’erstand, I’m takin’ ‘im with me. Incentive, if yah will, tah make sure you won’t be buggin’ us again.” His phone chimed, and he smirked. “The delivery man is walkin’ to the steps now. You be’er call yur Marie before ‘er ‘ead gets blown off.”_

_Cato swallowed and gave him the tiniest of nods. He’ll be fine, but they couldn’t let Lafayette get hurt._

_Hercules backed up, hands in the air. “You drop my partner off at Penn station by 1 AM. He’ll give you my number to text me after you drop him off. If he’s not there, I have enough evidence to shut down the harbors until we find you.”_

_His captor considered it before shrugging. “Fine. Tick tock.”_

_Hercules nodded sharply, giving Cato one last look before pulling out his phone and dialing Lafayette. “Hey, baby girl, I just realized that you got a package addressed to you, don’t open it, okay? It’s your birthday present-”_

_As soon as Hercules was out of sight, Cato tried to pull away, only to feel a needle prick his neck. Jerking a little, he felt a heavy numbness spread through his body, and as much as he tried to fight it, black quickly spread through his vision, and he went limp._

 

* * * * *

 

Hercules was peering at his face nervously, lips pressed together. “Shakespeare, answer me, damn it,” he hissed, one hand poised to push the emergency button. “Can you hear me?”

“’m okay,” he rasped, reaching up to weakly wrap his hand around Hercules’ wrist. “Just thinkin’ about our las’ mission together…”

He frowned, gently petting Cato’s frizzy hair. “I shouldn’t have left you, I shouldn’t have risked it, I’m so sorry….”

Cato shook his head, grimacing at his head. “No,” he said firmly, leaning into his hand. “I’m glad you did that, otherwise, Skittles would’ve died. I didn’t die.”

“You almost did, in the hospital, in the ambulance, in the seat they left you in.” Hercules looked like he was going to be sick. “You almost died in surgery a few days ago. Please stop almost dying, i-I can’t lose you, you’re my best friend.”

Cato pressed his cheek into Hercules’ hand, grimacing as he shifted. “And you’re mine,” he replied quietly. “It’s part of my job, Disney, you know that. Risking my life to save people. That’s what it’s all about.”

Hercules gritted his teeth, and Cato could see the tears springing in his dark eyes. “Ca- Shakespeare, please.” His voice cracked and Cato winced. “You aren’t the same anymore, this job is hurting you, please, just stop. Laf- Skittles has noticed something’s wrong, they’re worried about you too. I had to lie right to their face and tell them that you were just super stressed about the three different plays you were helping make outfits for. I don’t think they believe me, but they don’t have a better explanation.”

Cato shivered a little in the cold air of the hospital, and Hercules grabbed another blanket from the foot of the bed to lay over him gently. “I’m sorry, Disney,” he whispered, guilt crossing his face. “I-I can’t, not yet, I haven’t found them yet, I haven’t found-”

“I know.” Hercules interrupted, pressing his lips together. “I know.”

Cato swallowed, not wanting to close his eyes in fear of what would follow. “I’m sorry, Disney, I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful, honest. I-I just, I need closure, they hurt her so bad…”

“Shh, I know, I know.”

“What happened? Last thing I remember-”

_Everything was so cold as he trudged along, goosebumps making home on his dark skin. His footsteps were silent, gun drawn as he listened, waiting. Something flashed in his peripheral vision. Whipping around, he saw nothing in the old building. Nothing was moving._

“You got hit in the stomach with a baseball bat with nails. You’re lucky you didn’t get tetanus.” Hercules let out a shaky breath, and it was clear that there was more.

_From behind him, there was a rustle of fabric, and Cato whipped around to feel something slam into his stomach, a blunt object with what felt like tiny daggers covering it. Nails, his mind supplied unhelpfully._

“When you fell back, you fell onto a piece of broken PBC piping that narrowly missed your pelvic bone. Fractured your skull and your elbow on the concrete.”

_Sharp pain filled his senses, his head slammed into the floor, making him see double, triple while spots danced in front of his eyes, something tore through his back, just above his right hip, his elbow ached, and his stomach felt like someone took a chainsaw to it. He couldn’t breathe, it hurt, it hurt so bad, where was Hercules when he needed him? Hercules would’ve never let this happen._

“You’ve been unconscious for three days, Shakespeare, you’ve woken up, but every time you were out of it, screaming and freaking me out.” Hercules let out a shaky sigh. “It was awful, Shakespeare.”

Under closer inspection, Cato noticed Hercules’ rumpled clothes (he would never let them get wrinkled like that), the dark bruises under his eyes, and the sluggish way he moved his body. “Y’should get some res’.”

Hercules stared incredulously for a moment before snorting humorlessly. “I should rest? Says the one who almost fucking died?”

“S’not fair,” Cato frowned, letting his body go limp against the bed. “Shouldn’t’ve woke you, ‘m sorry.”

“Shakespeare, do me a favor and shut up.” Hercules leaned forward and very lightly pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Okay? You’re in the hospital, for fuck’s sake, don’t apologize to me for waking me up. Rest. It’ll be better in the morning.”

“I-I… Don’t leave? Please?” Cato whispered, grabbing his neck weakly. 

Hercules’ face softened, and he nodded. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of it, Shakespeare.” He gently pried his fingers off his neck, and held his hand. “Everything will be okay.”

 

* * * * * 

 

_“I can’t do this anymore, Cato,” Hercules hissed from across the kitchen table, careful not to raise too much of a racket. Lafayette and Georges were sleeping in their room, safe and sound. Cato knew because he had peeked in three times already._

_“What are you talking about, Hercules?” His voice was low and calm. Steady and level, emotions in check and hidden behind a mask. Of course, Hercules could see right through his mask, it was what he was trained to do._

_“You know what I’m talking about, Cato. I’m quitting the CIA. It was one thing when it was only our lives we were risking, but with Lafayette and Georges? Hell no. Especially with Laf’s mental state right now, they’re not doin’ so hot, and I don’t want to add to their problems.” Hercules looked pained and he softened a little, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “I can’t keep lying, it hurts. Every lie I tell them is another brick on the wall dividing us, and I just. I can’t. If I want to get serious with them, I need to stop with the sneaking around. Do you understand?”_

_Cato adverted his eyes, curling in on himself. “Of course, Herc,” he whispered. He opened his mouth to say more when four-year-old Georges came into the dining room and tugged on Hercules’ pajama pants._

_“Papa crying again, come fix ‘em?” He asked hopefully, clutching a panda bear plush to his chest. He looked close to tears. “Fix ‘em, fix ‘em?”_

_Hercules seemed to melt as he knelt down and nodded. “Of course I will, Georges, I’ll make Papa feel better again. How about you sleep with Cato tonight?” They made eye contact. “After all, our discussion is over. I’ve made my decision.”_

_Cato swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, his chest feeling tight and a heavy weight settling in his stomach. “Of course. C’mere, kiddo, y’want me to sing you that song you like so much? The hamburger song?”_

_Georges grinned toothily, and nodded, his crying parent pushed out of his mind. Hercules slipped down the hall as Georges lifted his arms, demanding to be picked up. Cato did so and smiled weakly, gently rocking him. He started singing softly in Japanese, “Hitotsu, futatsu, mittsu no hanbaagaa! Yottsu, isutsu, muttsu no hanbaagaa!” As he sang, he slowly made his way down the hall to his own room, watching as Georges’ eyes slipped closed, his thumb between his lips._

_Cato gently laid on the bed and cradled Georges close to him. He watched as the boy fell asleep, his tiny frame relaxing, and his breath coming out in small, steady puffs._

_He felt like he was falling slowly, and this time, Hercules wouldn’t be there to catch him._

 

* * * * *

He woke up and he wanted to scream.

Everything ached. His entire body was protesting existence, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted all of it to stop.

A groan escaped his throat, and he squeezed his eyes closed tightly. His breaths were pained.

A hand gently took his own, one worn and warm, with callouses on the tips of the fingers from needles, and soft from the lotion that was used almost obsessively. A scar that made a dip from the top of his thumb down to the bottom center of his palm. He'd recognize the hand anywhere. Hercules.

Cato's eyes cracked open and he hissed in pain. "H-Hercules... Shouldn't you be back home by now?"

Hercules frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "No. Why would I be? You need me here."

"I don't need anything," Cato snapped at him. "I didn't need you when you left, and I don't need you now." He didn't know where that came from. Well. Yes, he did, he just couldn't believe he actually said it to Hercules. It had been building up for years, the bitterness of being passed over in favor of Lafayette and Georges.

He understood, of course he did. Lafayette and Georges would always be placed before him, he preferred it that way, but hell, it hurt when it actually happened. It hurt badly.

He continued because he wanted Hercules to hurt too, for just the tiniest, selfish moment, he wanted to make Hercules feel what he felt.

"Just go home, back to Lafayette and Georges, just like you always do. Leave me alone, it's what you do best. You seemed pretty happy to do it thirteen years ago."

Hercules looked like he had been sucker punched, and Cato wanted to eat his words. The moment of selfishness was gone and he hated himself for letting it happen, for letting his anger get ahead of him. 

"Oh god, Disney, I didn't mean it, I swear-" Cato whispered, silenced when Hercules held up his hand.

"No." His stomach plummeted. This was it. He just ruined the one last good thing in his world, his ray of sunshine, his best friend.

"No," Hercules repeated, pulling away his hand, and Cato wanted to cry. "You're right."

"No, I'm not, Hercules, please, don't leave, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" Tears welled up in his eyes, and the heart monitor sped up.

"No, no, Shakespeare, shh, calm down. I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving. I'm sorry. I meant that you were right that I keep leaving you, and. Fuck. No wonder you're so self destructive." His voice cracked, and he looked devastated. "I swear, I'm gonna be there for you, Shakespeare, I'll make it right. Let me make it up to you." He stood up, hands trembling. He started messing with the blankets at the foot of the bed. "Please. I need to fix this, I've been so awful and selfish. I'm so sorry."

Cato reached out to take his hand again, slumping against the bed. "You just did."

* * * * *

_Two years went by since Hercules quit. Cato started becoming more closed off, becoming detached from Hercules' and his family. He stayed in touch, of course, he was too selfish to give up Hercules completely, but he started leaving on secret missions farther and farther away from the city. First time, he lived in the Bronx. Second time, it was in Boston. Third, he went to D.C. Fourth, he went back to Georgia, a few counties over from his home town. Two years later, and he was going to spend eight months in Kyoto, Japan._

_In the Bronx, he had to get stitches in his hands from grabbing barb wire to climb over a fence in pursuit of his suspect. In Boston, he jumped into the bay to grab a victim that was tossed in. In Georgia, he was shot twice in the leg._

_He didn't have an excuse for the last one._

_Now, a month into his stay in Kyoto, he had gotten into three fist fights, and was nursing cracked ribs. He was slowly becoming more and more temperamental, and cold to his own pain. He didn't care for anything except the family he wasn't good enough to keep._

_The family he Skyped every Friday._

_"Daddy made me a new shirt, Uncle Cato, it has a cool spaceship on it! You wanna see?" Georges asked on screen, his puffy hair sticking out around his head like a halo. His eyes were wide, and one of the six-year-old's bottom teeth was missing, making his words sound a bit off._

_Cato smiled. He had already seen it, of course, Hercules had shown the designs to him weeks before, but he loved how excited Georges was. "Of course I wanna see it, kid, how could I not?"_

_Georges giggled and dashed off. Lafayette came onscreen, looking tired and worried. "Cato," they murmured quietly. "Don't think that i don't see how swollen your cheek is. You need to be more careful and stop fighting people! I know, you're frustrated about all of the plays you're working with-" If only they knew. "- but it does not mean you should be risking your ass fighting people, okay?" They softened, shrinking slightly. "I just. Take care of yourself. Please."_

_He had to look away. He hated lying to Lafayette, but it was necessary to keep them safe. He was saved by answering, luckily, by Georges coming back into the room with the shirt held out proudly. "Look, Uncle Cato!"_

_That's how it was for years. Cato was a ticking time bomb; he couldn't be placed with other agents, or sent on minor missions. He had a knack for surviving dangerous missions, but just barely, being forced to stay in the hospital after each one. Hercules often couldn't do anything but Skype him in private, tears running down his cheeks, as he begged for Cato to stop, to be careful, to fucking think for a second._

_"Please come home," Hercules asked him once during a Skype session. 'What home?' He wanted to ask. 'I have no home.' He didn't say it, of course. He just changed the subject and moved on._

_But they had separate lives now. Hercules left him. He didn't get to make that decision on whether or not Cato would risk his life for every mission, because, honestly, he didn't have much except a family that wasn't really his to call his own. His parents and sister were dead. He would never have a significant other, and there was never a time nor place to make friends other than Hercules. So, really, what did he have to lose? He'd die protecting his country. In Japan, that was the most honorable way to go._

_So, why shouldn't he risk his life to save people?_

* * * * *

 

By the time Cato woke up again, Hercules looked much better rested, and was talking quietly to the doctor, two agents standing behind him. 

“So, he’ll recover just fine?” Hercules asked lowly, keeping his voice down in an attempt not to wake Cato.

“He’ll recover, yes, but past injuries are going to bother him more and more if he continues to strain his body like this.” The doctor said quietly, her gaze flickering over to Cato. She took a double take, and plastered a fake smile on. “Ah, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Cato grimaced and looked at Hercules. “Slightly better than last time I woke up, but not by much.”

Hercules nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, gently taking his hand. He could see the anxiety that was eating away at him, and it hurt to see. Cato did this, he made Hercules so scared and upset.

He couldn’t keep doing this to him. Either, he could keep working and hurting Hercules like this, or he could quit. Settle down somewhere near Hercules, Lafayette and Georges. Be there for them, and make a new life for himself. Work at Hercules’ studio with him, make costumes for local theaters. Live up to his promise to Hercules, his New Year’s resolution.

“Disney, can we call Skittles?”

Hercules paused, blinking. “Um. Yeah, sure, I mean, if you wanna call ‘em we can, but like, why?”

Cato cleared his throat. He had made his decision. “Consider this my official resignation as a secret agent. I’m done with being a spy. I want to go home.”

_I'm finally going home._

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> thanks to paperbound, my lovely beta, as always.
> 
> kudos make me smile, comments make me grin like an idiot.
> 
> tumblr: patrocool  
> twitter: nb_lafayette  
> instagram: gaygreekgeek


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